


Lemon Sweet

by MistoffLikeKristoff



Category: Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber, Cats - Freilichtspiele Tecklenburg (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Circus, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Tecklenburg Non-replica, but that's it, ended up too sweet, poorly defined magical powers, that's the product
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25736629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistoffLikeKristoff/pseuds/MistoffLikeKristoff
Summary: The sound of Victoria's voice—like gently chiming bells, like a perfect bit of honey on toast—took Jemima by surprise.
Relationships: Jemima/Victoria (Cats)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 13





	Lemon Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> A companion piece to "A Circus"-- But you absolutely do not have to read that one first if it's not your jam.
> 
> Also: all cats are magical, in different ways.

Jemima watched Tugger pull Munkustrap into the tent. 

She stifled a giggle and bounded up a ramp and then a staircase to meet Mistoffelees and Victoria, who were seated on a ledge, legs dangling over the side of the circus’ facade. Victoria beamed as she sank down next to her, and Misto handed her a cup of “Fun Time Punch” that Jennyanydots had been slinging. It tasted like lemon candy and was probably very dangerous.

Misto had a faint smile on his face, surveying the partying Jellicles below with his usual detachment. He liked to be near the festivities but very rarely a part of them-- and he’d definitely worn himself out with his magic stunt earlier, Jemima was certain. She gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, not too much contact so as to overwhelm him, but to just quietly communicate in her odd way, “Great job.” He scratched her behind the ear with affection and, pulling himself to his feet, bowed and left the two girls to themselves.

Victoria and Jemima sat silently, listening to the songs and yelling from below.

Feeling a little flustered, Jemima nudged Victoria’s foot with her own, trying to be playful. “Your dancing tonight was really pretty,” she said softly, and nudged her again. “I love watching you dance.”

Victoria smiled. Her smile was so gorgeous, filling her face with light and warmth, eyes crinkling a little, the smallest dimples gracing her pale cheeks. It made Jemima nervous, and she fiddled with the hem of her skirt.

“I liked your song,” Victoria said softly. She and her brother didn’t talk much so the sound of her voice—like gently chiming bells, like a perfect bit of honey on toast—took Jemima by surprise. 

“Really?” Jemima brought her hands up to her own face, feeling the heat rise as a blush took over. “I thought it was just okay, I just felt like I had so much to say, and I heard so many voices and I wanted to share everything with everyone at once and--”

Victoria giggled the smallest laugh, a lyrical exhalation of breath really, and she leaned in towards the other girl. Jemima’s brain didn’t have time to register what was happening until their lips were touching.

Victoria’s lips were soft, silken-- just the slightest hint of moisture. Jemima’s heart skipped. She tried to turn her head too quickly and they bumped noses, eliciting another of those delightful titters from Victoria. This time, she cupped the back of Jemima’s head, gently drawing her closer, and Jemima sighed sweetly.

*Is this okay?* Jemima could hear Victoria’s soft voice in her head, and she nodded her assent as enthusiastically as she could without disturbing the kiss. Jemima hesitantly opened her mouth, just a bit, to nip at Victoria’s bottom lip, and Victoria stole the moment to deepen the kiss, tongue darting in her mouth, surely tasting that lemony-sweet drink and maybe her nervousness too.

Jemima and Victoria had held hands dozens of times; they had spent the night side by side in the girls’ bunk, giggling until they got aggressively shushed by Jenny. But this felt so familiar, so natural, that Jemima couldn’t believe they hadn’t kissed before. Maybe they had, in another life. 

Victoria tasted like dawn through the trees on a cool spring morning, like a patch of wildflowers in a circle of moonlight growing tall on the forest floor. Jemima must have thought that a little too loud because Victoria pulled back and smiled, shaking her head as though to say, “That’s silly.” She dipped her head to Jemima’s neck and placed a gentle kiss just under her jawline. 

Jemima shuddered.

*Are you cold?*, Victoria asked without asking. Jemima blushed, assuring her _that_ wasn’t the reason for her shiver. That made Victoria smile again, and she pressed her lips to Jemima’s throat once more. Jemima’s head fell back, giving her more room to explore. Victoria grasped her shoulders and gently pushed her to lie down on the soft grass, legs still dangling over the ledge, lending the whole encounter an odd sense of weightlessness. Jemima felt heat pooling in her core and gasped-- which emboldened Victoria to lean in for another kiss, pressing their bodies together.

The emotions sent through the touch reminded Jemima of a summer rain shower that she had particularly adored, when big warm droplets had struck the canvas tent and made such a racket. The sun was shining brightly even as the rain fell, making the whole world sparkle. Victoria had grabbed her by the hand and ran outside with her to dance, getting soaked to the bone and laughing. Feeling wonder and bliss.

Below them, the Jellicle party continued, music and dancing and frivolity after a Jellicle Ball with more drama than usual. They were mostly hidden by their high vantage point, but if someone really looked their way, it wasn’t difficult to sleuth what was going on. Jemima felt suddenly unsettled-- Victoria could sense her tension, and stroked her cheek with a soft hand. Jemima instinctively moved toward the touch. 

“Jemima,” Victoria said, with her voice, “we can stop if you are frightened.”

The thought of stopping _now_ , as arousal was thrumming through her blood, a palpable need to be close to this cat, this cat that she had loved for as long as she knew what love was-- Jemima was shaking her head vigorously. “I’m sorry, I just-- I got overwhelmed, I can feel so much through your skin and it’s so wonderful and vibrant and makes me love you even more--!!”

Victoria’s gentling hand pulled away. “Love?”

Oh no. Jemima covered her beet-red face with her hands and tried to roll away, maybe right off the ledge. She was so embarrassed. She hadn’t admitted that before, but as soon as it left her mouth she knew it was the deepest truth she’d ever spoken.

Victoria nestled into her back, cradling her from behind, joy radiating through the strange connection that Jemima had conjured, pressing soft lips to her neck. *I love you, Jemima.*

The dam broke and it was just unfiltered emotions between them now. Victoria slid her arm underneath Jemima’s head to pillow her; Jemima turned her head back towards Victoria and kissed her with abandon, tongues entangling. She delighted in the soft touch of Victoria’s hand at her shoulders, then drifting down to cup under her breasts through her blouse. Victoria’s thumb teased at her nipple and Jemima arched her back, moaning open-mouthed into their kiss.

Sensations, waves of “happiness” and “pleasure” and “desire” glittered between them. Jemima rocked back into Victoria, trying to connect their bodies in every way she could, wanton, encouraging Victoria with her mind and body to touch more, to dissolve into each other. She ached as Victoria’s hand moved lower, tracing up her thigh to ruck up her skirt. She was on fire, she was definitely going to die.

Victoria giggled as this thought crossed to her, and she only redoubled her efforts, trailing her fingers lightly up Jemima’s legs to the center of her, stroking over her bloomers and eliciting a sob. Jemima felt so wound up, so taut, she might snap, as Victoria gently slid her hand inside her panties and massaged her vulva with her open palm, even strokes covering the sensitive flesh. Jemima gasped.

Slipping a finger between her folds, Victoria continued to rock against Jemima, her own heat pushing against Jemima’s thighs and affording her some pleasant friction. She increased her pressure, her speed, rubbing against Jemima’s clitoris with force, wanting her to feel treasured, cherished. The feedback loop of their shared pleasure was intoxicating; each touch Victoria gave to Jemima increased her own euphoria. Jemima had no idea that anything could feel this good, and told Victoria so, through moans and eager kisses, tangling her hand in Victoria’s wild white mane.

Jemima shouted as she came, body seized, face turned into Victoria’s arm, eyes clouding and unfocused. She turned in Victoria’s arms, so they were chest to chest, both gasping to catch their breath.

“That… that was amazing,” Jemima’s eyes sparkled with happy tears. She pressed their lips together again, feeling Victoria’s warmth and sighing.

*I’m glad*, Victoria sent while placing a tender kiss on Jemima’s lips. 

Jemima stroked a lock of hair away from Victoria’s face, gazing into her eyes. “How can I make you feel that good?”

Victoria untangled herself from Jemima’s embrace and rose to her feet. Jemima started in confusion until she saw Victoria’s delicate hand extended to her, ready to take her anywhere, everywhere, together. She could suddenly see their entire lives together, performing and playing and dancing and singing and truly, it was perfect.

Jemima took her hand, and they walked together.


End file.
